


on our lips, begin and tell

by edibleflowers



Series: do not go gentle [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, i guess that negates the fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 13:25:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9550961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edibleflowers/pseuds/edibleflowers
Summary: A moment of respite in the midst of darkness.





	

**Author's Note:**

> hoooooooooooooo that's a pretentious summary. anyway this is set during "our eyes are covered by night" so you should probably go read that first. 
> 
> are you back? ok, this is set during the ten year gap in part 13. basically I just wanted to write some shippy fluffy sweetness with my baby boys and it turned into smut because I have midas's golden touch except everything I touch turns to smut instead of gold.

"Holy fuck, I am _exhausted_ ," Prompto declared, climbing up the steps to the caravan.

"Considering we've gone approximately twenty hours without sleep, I'm hardly surprised." Ignis was right behind him; Prompto stood back long enough to hold the flimsy door open for him, then collapsed at the kitchenette's table, reaching down with a groan to start unlacing his boots.

He kept an eye on Ignis, who was making his unerring way to the refrigerator. "At least have something to drink before you fall over," Ignis said, while Prompto finished shucking his boots off and pushed them far under the table so that they wouldn't get in Ignis's way. With a groan, Prompto got up and reached for two of the tall plastic cups he knew were in the upper cabinet, handing them off to Ignis one by one so he could pour from the water jug in the fridge.

They'd pretty much made the caravan their own, these past few months of patrolling around Hammerhead. No one was traveling these days -- no one who didn't have serious, life-or-death reason to be on the roads, anyway -- so they didn't have to sleep in the hunter's barracks Dave had had built out by the diner (which itself was being converted into an armory, since Takka couldn't exactly keep his business going in light of the circumstances). 

"There," Ignis said, closing the fridge door again. "Have something to drink, we can have a rest and start fresh tomorrow."

"Mmm." Sitting again, Prompto shrugged off his jacket and dropped it to the bench seat beside him, then took a deep drink of the water. It was cold and clear, though the faint flat taste made him wish for the old days, before they had to boil and filter everything. "Should make a run down to the Chocobo Post, see how they're doing."

Ignis's smile was soft as he sat across from Prompto, sipping from his own glass. "I believe Iris and Cor were there recently, but I think we could probably schedule it."

"Can't help worrying about those little fluffballs." Prompto didn't even blush anymore; he'd gotten over being embarrassed by how much he liked chocobos a long time ago. If it was feasible to keep one as a pet, he would have. These days, though, they had to keep them safe from daemons, which meant no more rentals or racing -- and that he got to see his precious birds far too seldom.

He'd half-slumped over the table without realizing it when Ignis said, "All right, then. Bedtime for both of us, I think."

"Huh?" Blinking, Prompto sat up and then laughed quietly. "Yeah, you're right. You're always right."

"A phrase I never tire of hearing." Ignis's smile was amused as he got to his feet, leaving the cane behind as he took Prompto's hand. Prompto turned the lights off before leading Ignis back to the rear of the caravan, which had been fitted out with a full-size bed. (Prompto suspected Cindy had done that just for them, once they'd started doing regular patrols around Hammerhead, but she'd never admitted a thing.) 

Prompto lasted as long as it took to pull back the covers on the bed before he collapsed, face first, on the mattress. "Don't take this the wrong way," he mumbled into the pillow, "but not tonight, honey?"

He was rewarded with Ignis's warm laughter, following him down into blessed, overdue sleep.

* * *

Without sunlight to order their days, Prompto and Ignis had learned to rely on alarm clocks to keep any kind of normal schedule (barring times when they were forced to stay out for two days or more at a stretch). So it was confusing when Prompto woke slowly, without the normal strident ring of an alarm in his ear, to dim light in the caravan.

They kept the blinds closed even without daylight, in order to be able to sleep without the outpost's bright artificial lights bothering them. There was no dimmer switch for the caravan's lights; what in the..?

Prompto had a brief instant of startled hope: sunlight returning? But no, he realized as adrenaline flooded his system and left him shivering: the blinds were still shut. It was candlelight that he saw, blinking and flickering, filling the caravan's interior with a sweet, soft glow.

Confused, he slid from the bed and pushed himself upright. He felt a little tacky with dried sweat, his hair still stiff from two-day-old gel; he scratched his bare chest as he stepped out into the main area of the caravan. "Ignis?" he asked. 

More awake now, he identified the smell of food from the stove -- oh, man, that was _sea bass_. Prompto had to swallow against a mouth suddenly full of saliva. Ignis turned from the stove at the same time, even though he couldn't actually see Prompto; it was still a habit of his to turn toward whoever he addressed. "Ah, you're awake. Good. Would you do me a favor and hop in the shower? That'll give me time to finish this."

"What... what is all this?" Looking around, Prompto saw candles grouped in neat little settings on nearly every available surface of the caravan. They had to be some of the ones Holly had taken to making in Lestallum, which meant Ignis must have been planning this for some time: they hadn't been back there in at least a month.

"I'll explain once you're cleaned up," Ignis said, and waved his spatula at Prompto. "Go on."

Moving on autopilot, Prompto backed into the bathroom and undid his pants, blinking as he stripped down. 

The shower did help; even though it had to be lukewarm, he'd gotten used to that in the last couple of years, and he didn't bother doing his hair after. He tucked the towel around his waist and ducked from the bathroom back to the bedroom, finding clean boxer-briefs, jeans, a t-shirt that Ignis had said he liked (one of Prompto's oldest ones, gone soft from so many washings). He did take a moment in the mirror, making sure he looked halfway decent: Ignis was clearly up to something special today.

(Tonight, rather. According to the clock by their bedside, it was nearly seven o'clock at night. He'd slept way longer than usual.)

"All right, one presentable Prompto at your service," he said, coming out of the bedroom once more. "Tell me what to do."

"Have a seat," Ignis said, gesturing to the kitchenette's table. He'd finished cooking while Prompto showered; two plates had been laid out there, with glasses and -- was that _wine_? Shaking his head in amazement, Prompto slid into his usual place.

"Iggy," he said, his throat tight for a moment. "This is -- this is amazing. It looks so good, and it smells _fantastic_."

He generally tried not to make a big deal of things that Ignis had been able to do before he'd lost his eyesight. It was a delicate line to walk; Ignis pushed himself so hard to be able to perform as well as he had prior to Altissia, and while Prompto wanted to praise him for his progress, Ignis tended to take any overt compliments as reminders of what he'd lost. Still, while he could cook as well as before, he tended not to bother with presentation or plating much. "If it doesn't poison someone, I'll be satisfied," he'd said more than once.

This was something special, though, and Prompto couldn't just leave it. And Ignis didn't seem to mind; if anything, he gave Ignis a soft smile as he moved to sit down. "Thank you," he said. "I wanted to make things special tonight."

"So that's why you let me sleep so late," Prompto said.

"Well, you clearly needed it. Here." Ignis's hand moved until it found the wine bottle, and Prompto took it, letting his fingers rest on Ignis's for a moment. "It's the same vintage we had on our first date in Lestallum."

"I see," Prompto said, though his eyes weren't on the label; he poured some for Ignis and then for himself. "Is that -- Oh." And he stopped, barely managing to put the bottle down as a hand went to his mouth. 

"It's been three years," Ignis said, soft. 

Prompto swallowed again, this time to try and get rid of the lump stopping up his throat. His eyes prickled, and he had to shut them for a moment.

"I didn't even remember," he said, stunned. "And you did all this."

"I didn't expect you to." Ignis reached for him, and Prompto let him take his hand. "Nor did I expect anything in return. I only thought -- we have few enough moments like this anymore, where we can escape from the world around us for a little while. And why not celebrate it while we can?"

"Ignis," Prompto whispered. He had to push himself up, bracing on the table so he could lean across and kiss Ignis. "It's just. It's so great of you. Thank you."

Smiling, Ignis met the kiss, then nudged Prompto back. "Let's see if you're still thanking me after you've tried the food."

* * *

It didn't surprise Prompto in the least that everything was delicious. Ignis had roasted vegetables which must have been brought in from the hydroponics gardens in Lestallum to go with the perfectly seasoned sea bass, even a healthy portion of mashed potatoes with real butter that melted in Prompto's mouth. Prompto sipped the wine slowly, smiling as he remembered how little he'd cared for it on that first date; his tastes had changed in the past few years, or maybe it was just that the wine was a luxury so rarely afforded these days that now he could appreciate it.

"That was incredible," he declared at last. "I don't think I can eat another bite."

"And we didn't even finish the wine." Ignis took the last swallow from his glass, then set it back down with a contented sigh. "The rest will keep, though."

"Sure, yeah." Still smiling, Prompto reached to rest his hand on Ignis's where it lay on the table. "I still can't believe you did all this. You must have been planning for ages."

"It wasn't all that difficult. I procured the candles the last time we were in Lestallum, and I was lucky enough to get the wine from a trader there as well. Gladio did the fishing, so you can thank him for that."

"I will." Prompto couldn't help but smile in wry amusement: only Ignis would go to such painstaking arrangements without benefit of vision, yet self-effacingly pass off the whole evening as if it were nothing. "But first I'm thanking _you_ for doing all this."

Ignis's eyebrow went up, as devastating an effect as it was the first time Prompto had seen it. "Oh? Well, you're welcome, then."

"Oh, no, this isn't even the _start_ of me thanking you." Keeping Ignis's hand in his, Prompto stood, gently tugged until Ignis got up as well. Ignis's smile was indulgent, warming as Prompto urged Ignis's hands around him, then tilted up for an easy kiss.

They'd settled somewhat in the last couple of years; between the constant daemon attacks and the constant struggle to survive, physical intimacy and private time had become distant priorities at best. Still, Prompto was grateful for nights like this, where they could set everything else aside and indulge in the simple pleasures of being with each other, their time all the sweeter for being short.

Now he could indulge. He could slip his hands around Ignis's waist to untuck his shirt in the back while kissing him lazily, could enjoy the sturdiness of Ignis's body -- still lean and muscled, a pleasure to feel against his own -- as his tongue slipped eagerly over Ignis's and explored his mouth as if for the first time. Ignis tasted so sweet, sweeter than the wine that lingered on his tongue, and Prompto moaned into his boyfriend's mouth even as his hands began to work more determinedly at untucking Ignis's shirt.

Ignis made a low sound in response, his hands going to Prompto's hips and pulling him closer. Their hips met, sudden and almost painful; Prompto could feel Ignis's erection, stiff in his trousers, thin fabric a poor barrier for the heat leaping between them. He gave up on the shirt and hooked his fingers in Ignis's beltloops instead, started to walk backwards.

"And where might we be going, hm?" Ignis murmured against Prompto's lips. Teeth caught at Prompto's lower lip and Prompto made a helpless sound, his shoulder nearly catching on an edge of the wall. He managed to angle out of the way and kept going while Ignis's tongue soothed the bite, teased into his mouth.

"Wh-where do you think?" Prompto asked between kisses. More than once he had been grateful for that big bed; now was no exception. Almost as soon as they were through the doorway, he could just let himself fall backward, bringing Ignis with him to land on the wide mattress. He scooted up on the bed right away; Ignis followed, tugging off his sunglasses and handing them over. It was almost unconscious how Prompto took them and put them on the shelf next to the bed, they'd done this so often.

"Now," Ignis murmured, settling himself over Prompto, resting on his thighs. His hands came up to begin undoing the buttons of his shirt, one by one, a slow tease. Candlelight here, too, made his skin glow pale gold, the shadows deep where the shirt obscured his skin. "What to do with you."

Prompto let his hands skim over Ignis's legs, the strong muscles warm through thin soft fabric. "Got a few ideas, if you need suggestions," he offered breathily.

Ignis chuckled. "No, actually, I think I know exactly what I want." The shirt open at last, he held out his hands, and Prompto obediently undid the buttons at the cuffs, tugged the sleeves down. Ignis shrugged it free, let it flutter to the side, then started on his trousers. Inhaling, Prompto watched, transfixed, as those long elegant fingers neatly opened his belt, worked the buttons open, undid the zipper; Ignis even leaned back and up a little so that Prompto could get a better view as the trousers slid down a little and the bold curve of Ignis's erection in his briefs came clear in the candlelight.

"Gods, you're beautiful," he whispered. His hands stroked up Ignis's thighs now, reaching to pull Ignis's pants down; Ignis's hand slid to cup his erection and Prompto's hands stilled at the sight: clever fingers touching, rolling, working himself through his briefs; Ignis's head dropping back as he sucked in a breath and then groaned. 

" _Fuck_ ," Prompto murmured reverently, his breathing shallow.

"In due time." Ignis's voice had dropped to that growl that drove Prompto crazy every time. Shivering a little, Prompto dragged his own shirt off, biting at his lower lip as he watched Ignis's hand dip inside his briefs, finally revealing his full cock, thick and heavy. A quivering sigh slipped from his open mouth; his lower lip gleamed, light dancing across the slick surface.

Prompto's hands moved almost of their own free will to the open waist of Ignis's trousers. As if it were the cue he'd been waiting for, Ignis raised up on his knees, and Prompto hooked his thumbs in the briefs and pulled them down too. In another heartbeat, Ignis was bare to him. Prompto felt the absurd desire to worship Ignis somehow, to press kisses to his collarbone and chest and belly, to nuzzle and lick and suck everywhere--

"Your jeans, love," Ignis said. Prompto jerked out of the momentary fantasy and went to work, hastily undoing his jeans and shoving them down, the underwear too, pushing and shimmying until he could kick them the rest of the way off.

"How, how do you want me?" Prompto asked, his voice hoarse, raw. His head was spinning, though he was sure it had nothing to do with the alcohol.

"Just like that." Ignis's smile was lazy now, and he bent forward, briefly on his hands and knees over Prompto. Before Prompto could reach to pull him down, Ignis had secured the bottle of lube they kept on the bedside shelf and sat back again. Prompto wanted to pout, ineffectual as it might be.

"Want to touch you," he said instead, letting hunger creep into his tone. "Please."

"Just a moment more." Ignis tipped his head forward and poured slick lube over his fingers, a generous, slippery handful. Some of it dripped on Prompto's chest; he absently stroked at it, smearing it, his eyes fixed on Ignis's hands. He was ready, more than ready, he wanted--

Ignis's hand disappeared behind himself. Prompto forgot how to breathe. He watched Ignis's wrist turn, felt as much as saw Ignis shudder over him. 

He couldn't just lay back and watch this. He groped for the lube where Ignis had set it down, added some to his own fingers. "Please," he said again. 

Ignis leaned forward, his free hand on Prompto's chest to hold himself up. "Go on," he whispered, and Prompto kept his eyes on Ignis's face as he reached to find the sleek cleft of Ignis's ass. His fingers bumped at Ignis's knuckles, gently pressed--

"Jesus," he whispered. "Two already?"

"Could use another." Ignis had gone hoarse now, his mouth open as he panted for air. Mesmerized, Prompto waited for Ignis to slip his fingers back, then let one of his own slide in alongside them.

As many times as they'd done this, touching Ignis was still a pleasure and a delight, and Prompto savored that first moment of penetration, of feeling Ignis's body dense around his finger, the heat of it drawing him in. Their fingers tangled in him, drew back together, pressed inward again, steady and slick. The caravan had gone so still Prompto thought he could hear the crackle of candleflame, could feel every bead of sweat that fell from Ignis to his own skin.

"Can't," Ignis said, at last, and brought their fingers out all at once, shifting up until he was straddling Prompto's hips in the same moment. "Need you, Prompto, come on--"

Prompto could barely stand to wait an instant later, but he managed somehow, adding more lube from the bottle to his own erection -- he felt about to go off like a rocket, but he bit down hard on his lip until the white receded from his vision, and then held himself up with one hand, the other between them to guide the tip to Ignis's opening. "There," he said, and even as he got the syllable out, Ignis was pushing down, a low cry rippling from him as the head of Prompto's cock popped in all at once.

"Yeah," Prompto breathed out, not even sure of what he was saying, as Ignis began to ease himself lower. Both of Ignis's hands were fisted on Prompto's chest now, and Prompto ran his own hands up along Ignis's sides, over his hips and thighs, encouraging his steady movement. Gradually, inch by slow inch, Ignis let his weight bear him down, rocking up just a little every now and then before pushing down a little more. Every time he did that, Prompto shuddered; he knew Ignis wouldn't leave him hanging, and then, every time, the renewal of sensation took his breath away all over again.

It seemed an eternity before Ignis finally rested on him, their bodies flush with each other, Prompto buried to the hilt in Ignis's impossible heat, in the grip of dense muscle that clutched and held him tight. Prompto's hands stroked up Ignis's back now, feeling the tension in his muscles, his shoulders, the shiver as he held himself so perfectly still over Prompto.

"You feel so good," he muttered, "so fucking good, gods, you don't even know, you're driving me crazy, Ig, fuck, _please_ \--"

Inhaling, Ignis shifted forward and down so that he could meet Prompto's mouth in a hungry kiss. "Your wish," he murmured, and ground his pelvis against Prompto's, hard, making Prompto keen in desperate pleasure and need. Grinning wickedly, he lifted up and began to move.

Apparently Ignis was in full _torture-Prompto-until-he-screamed mode_ tonight. His first slides were brief, short, though even the barest friction of Ignis's rim at the base of Prompto's cock left Prompto gasping for air. The teasing slides began to lengthen, so gradually that at first Prompto didn't even realize, and then -- _ahh_ \-- Ignis lifted up and pushed down, hard, taking Prompto's full length, sliding back until Prompto nearly popped free, then down again, again.

"Gods, fucking _yes_ ," Prompto groaned, and Ignis gave him a mad smile. Keening, Prompto pushed up on one elbow, the other hand cupping Ignis's nape to pull him down for a messy kiss, urgent and rough, their mouths grinding together wetly. Ignis's hands had fallen to rest on either side of Prompto's shoulders now, bringing him closer in; he dropped his head and worked hard on Prompto now, hips snapping hard to take Prompto in with every push. Not that Prompto was letting Ignis do all the work; there was no way he could keep from responding to Ignis, and it felt too amazing to rock up and into Ignis, gasping every time they connected, every time the hard bone of Ignis's hips met Prompto's groin.

Between them, Ignis's cock bobbed stiff and leaking. Prompto had let Ignis lead long enough; he needed to feel his boyfriend come apart over him, and it was nothing to close his fist on that full erection, the thickness of the shaft filling his hand delightfully. He tightened his fingers, keeping his hand in place so that Ignis could push down on him and then up into his fist.

"Oh," Ignis said, and, "oh _gods_ , Prompto," and then he apparently just gave up on trying to talk completely in favor of letting out shaking moans, hard grunts with every slide of their bodies together.

"Yeah, come on, you're doin' me so good, wanna feel you come on my cock," Prompto growled, "fucking come all around me, Ig, I gotta feel it--"

He didn't know if it was the words or the sensations, or maybe both. He didn't care, anyway, not when Ignis's back arched and he pushed down hard and quivered so hard Prompto thought he actually _might_ fall apart. He pumped his hand faster now, sleek fast strokes until Ignis came between them, all over his chest, hands fisting in the sheet under them.

Feeling Ignis let go was one of Prompto's favorite things, especially since (in moments like these) it meant he could give in to the astonishing pleasure of Ignis's intense climax pulling him over the edge after him. He dragged his hands to Ignis's hips, holding him there, and thrust heedlessly, helplessly, the rush of orgasm taking him in sudden waves.

When he came back to himself, Ignis was draped over him, taking in slow deep breaths, his head resting on Prompto's shoulder. Prompto swallowed -- his throat was dry, but this sight was enough to fill him with tenderness every time -- and brought his arms up around Ignis, one hand stroking Ignis's hair.

"You doin' OK there?" he murmured.

"Better than." Ignis wore a sweet smile, relaxed and tender. "I'll get up in a moment and clean up."

"You will not," Prompto told him, firm, and squeezed him briefly close. "You did all the work tonight, you're gonna lay there and let me clean up."

"Well, if you insist." Ignis sounded halfway to sleep already; Prompto pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "Though I've one request."

"What's that? Want some water?"

"Well, that too." Ignis shifted a little, let his chin rest on Prompto's collarbone, his smile soft. "Only do me a small favor and don't thank Gladio the same way."

Laughing, Prompto kissed Ignis's smile. "Promise," he said.


End file.
